Bitter/Sweet

It’s the week of your due date my son … and the level of devastation that our current reality is the complete opposite of what this week was supposed to be is truly the worst pain I have ever felt. Some might think “well it has to better than the day you found out you lost him” … while that day has it’s own badge of devastation for sure, I was still in so much shock 10 weeks ago, my reality hadn’t truly sunk in yet. And I reflect on those moments at the hospital and I’m grateful for that time. I became a mother that day, I gave birth to my son, I got to meet him, hold him, kiss him, talk to him, take pictures with him … it was the most bittersweet day I have ever experienced. So while that time still receives part of the adjective “sweet” now today, I’m just bitter.

I’m bitter that I’m not waddling around the house, complaining of the summer heat, 10 months pregnant with you still in my belly.

I’m bitter that there’s no hospital bag packed and ready to go by my nightstand.

I’m bitter that we don’t get have that exciting moment of saying to Jon “I think it’s time! My water broke!”

I’m bitter that we have a perfectly decorated nursery stocked with all his gifts, just sitting there sterile and not able to use.

I’m bitter that I’m not doing loads of wash of all his clothes with gentle detergent and perfectly placing them in his dresser drawers.

I’m bitter that our parents, your grandparents are no longer anxiously waiting that phone call of your impending arrival.

I’m bitter that my brother, sister and niece are now stripped of having a nephew/cousin to brag about.

I’m bitter that we received the title of “Mom” & “Dad” but have no child to parent.

I’m bitter that we will never to get to know the sound of your voice, to hear your first words.

I’m bitter that we do not get to watch you grow up and we’ll never know what your true potential was.

I’m bitter that you never got to experience all this life has to offer and maybe have a family of your own one day.

I’m bitter that our life is forever defined from “before we lost you”

While I know it may be naive to think that babies actually come on their due date, July 30th was forever ingrained into our brains of the day we’d meet our son. So here is that true shitty shitty reality, rearing it’s ugly head that in fact, all our hopes and dreams that we poured into this date are no longer coming true. Our future is forever changed. This is the first big milestone and hurdle we have to climb, but there are so many more to come. Like the upcoming family beach trip you should be coming with and us panicking as new parents of how do you bring an infant to the beach. Christmas this year was when you’d be coming up to Maryland to meet all your extended family. Then your birthday next year, and so on … the hits will just keep coming.

Everything is a trigger, everything is a constant reminder that you are not here but you should be. When I’m finally able to turn off the thoughts in my brain and get a few hours of sleep,  I awake to complete panic. I’m literally out of breath, it feels like someone is sitting on my chest. I begin to shake and tremble. I run to the bathroom and vomit up all my nerves. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I’m told this pain won’t last forever but nothing feels right without you here sweet boy. How did we get here?

 

8 thoughts on “Bitter/Sweet

  1. Hurting for you, praying for you and hoping you can keep your head above water in the waves of shitty coming your way my sweet undeserving friend. No one deserves this really. Xoxo

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  2. We lost our second daughter in September when I was almost 21 weeks along. I can so relate to what you’ve written and how you’re feeling. Our due date was January 31st and I have had so many of the same thoughts and feelings you describe. I’m sorry for what you’re going through.

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    1. I’m so sorry to hear of the loss of your daughter. All I can hope is that your pain is slightly less sharp than it was in January, but I know that it is still with you everyday. Sending love your way Lauren ❤

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  3. Your words on your blog posts are so eloquent about how this turns your life inside out. I feel like I could have written them. Your honesty is wrenching and yet cathartic to realize that one is not alone with the emotions, anger, and guilt that this brings. We have mutual friends, and I have been just heartbroken for you and your husband, knowing how much this sucks. And frankly, though time blunts it, it will always suck. I am sending you hugs. Let me know if you ever need to talk.

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    1. Thanks for reading the blog Kassandra. Yes although we are very early in this journey of loss, no matter how hopeful we are, like you said it will always suck … I mean how cannot it not when he’s not here? You identify as if you know, have you experienced a loss as well?

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      1. Yes, after years of trying, at 24 weeks I was rear ended on the way to work. Four trips to the hospital, bad doctor decisions….doctor broke my water doing an amnio (which we had decided against previously ). Our precious son came out kicking the whole time, but doctors said too soon and didn’t do anything. I still question not screaming at them to try nearly 10 years later. We were broken for a while. But we have since been blessed with a son who is love personified. Every now and then I think, there should be 2, but I am thankful for the blessing we have. It takes time; do not expect do be “done” grieving at a specific time. And don’t let anyone tell you differently. Every grief journey is different – just know there a lot of people that are praying for you and your husband.

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